Life of a Grave Robber
by hardrocker21
Summary: Robin Graves lives the life of a normal mortician. As normal as robbing graves, disposing of corpses, cleaning up crime scenes, and working with the likes of a psychotic and violent drug dealer gets. Join him as works the messy end of these desert shootouts. No pairings.
1. Chapter 1

**Just a quick note, this is not meant to be a fantastic and well written out story. Just a little something I did for fun for a couple of friends. Please be mature and we'll get along fine.**

"RUN YOU IDIOT! THEY'RE CATCHING UP!" shouted the gruff voice from the man who was shooting behind himself.

The voice came from a balding middle aged man who was firing at the men who was chasing them. He got a few lucky hits in, but most of his shots missed. He was more used to taking his enemies head on, but he hadn't really anticipated a fully armed militia guarding their prize. Running beside him was a young bearded man with brown hair and carrying closed case with him. One of his eyes was partially glazed as he didn't have full use of it anymore.

It was supposed to be a simple job. Sneak into a survivalist compound in the woods, take a brief case loaded with goods from one of the sheds, and slip out. But no, as soon as Trevor had spotted someone walking towards the shed as the younger man was working with the lock to the case's safe, he had to shoot the guy. And here they were with their prize and running downhill through the forest trying to get away from them. Bullets impacted the trees and ricocheted into the brush.

"We wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't started shooting people Trevor," yelled the younger man.

"BLAH BLAH BLAH! Once we get to the truck we'll get out of here. These people haven't heard the last of me," Trevor said with agitation in his voice.

"Just don't bring their bodies around MY mortuary. You do whatever you want with them, said the younger man.

It wasn't long before they reached Trevor's orange truck and they jumped inside as soon as they reached them. Before the younger man could even get himself buckled in, Trevor had started the engine and they were rushing down a dirt road and away from where the shots were coming from and sure enough they stopped all together.

Trevor began laughing and whooping and said, "See that Robin? I told you it'd be no trouble."

But the young man, Robin, was busy trying to catch his breath. It had been a wild run down the hill and the fact that they were being shot at at the same time had sent his adrenaline surging. Now that it had worn off, he had to let the shock wear off too. And Trevor's wild driving through the woods was certainly not helping things at all.

Robin merely looked up at the sky as they drove by and said, "Why did I get mixed up in all of this? Where did I go wrong?"

To better understand Robin's story we'll have to go back to a time before he got involved with Trevor Phillips. To a time where things were much happier for him.

 **Next time we'll learn a little more about Robin's past and how he came to get involved with Mr Phillips.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the views and comments and now we continue with Robin's backstory.**

 **(Robin's POV)**

My name is Robin Graves. I work as a mortician near the town of Sandy Shore's and have been working solo here for the past eight years. My aunt and uncle had been the original owners of this establishment, but was left to me after their deaths.

I was originally born in Vice City about twenty-five years ago. My parents were honest decent people. We lived a normal life and we were happy. Until I was about fours years old.

One day while they were on their way to pick me up from a babysitter, they had been traveling over a bridge they traveled every day. But a ship that had been passing under it had hit one of the support columns and sent a part of the roadway into the water below and several cars went in. Twenty people were killed, my parents included.

I waited and waited for them to arrive, but so much time passed. Eventually the police came by and filled me in on what had happened. That is where my innocent life officially came to an end. A few days after the tragedy, I was shipped off to San Andreas to live with an aunt and uncle, who I had no idea even existed. All I remember from the flight itself is being miserable the entire flight, but as soon as I had landed and actually met up with them things had gotten better.

Their warm and friendly faces, my uncles tough yet caring demeanor, and my aunts hair that practically glowed. This was surprising for people who dressed up and preserved dead bodies for funerals. This fact and their appearences told me that things were going to get better for me. And for the most part, things were.

They home schooled me and usually kept within the mortuary and the cemetery around it. Up until I was ten, they kept me out of their lab as they worked with the deceased. Rather they'd help me dig the graves in the cemetery around it. Sometimes my uncle would slip out for a few hours on some nights and return really late, whenever I asked they would always tell me that it wasn't anything I needed to worry about.

The day I turned ten was when they revealed to me the truth of their profession. They did prepare bodies for funerals, however they used their extra time and resources to dispose of bodies and cover up many murder scenes. You see, not many people die natural deaths in this area and because of the drug trade through here there are plenty of murders. However the media doesn't report on a lot of these because it was my aunt and uncles job to clean the scenes up and to dispose of the dead. Be it cremation or burying them in the hills, there were plenty of ways to dispose of them.

At this point they figured I was old enough to start learning the trade. You'd think that a child of my age would be repulsed by this, but I actually wasn't. I had seen many dead bodies and I had sometimes actually snuck into their lab at night and seen some of the dead. I had seen some real hamburger meat. I got used to it pretty quickly and I quickly became eager to help them out. By the time I was thirteen, I was helping cremate some of the bodies that were brought in and once I turned fifteen I was even helping my uncle dispose of the bodies that were brought in be it dumping them in the ocean or burying them in the woods or the hills.

Yep things were good. That is until I turned eighteen. The day my innocence truly died.

 **Now we have an idea of Robin's past and next we'll find out what happened that led to the end of innocence.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Not much new to say. Enjoy the chapter.**

 **Since I couldn't decide on a design for all of the cartel men here so you guys can create your own images for them.**

 **(Robin POV)**

One day just a week after I had turned eighteen I came home to the mortuary and noticed that a big blue cruiser vehicles parked right in front of the building. Before I walked inside, I wandered over to the trucks. I for one didn't care for these bigger vehicles, mainly because it's a sign of people flashing their money. Before turning back to the door, I reared back and spit on the windshield of the truck.

I walked into the house and as I did, someone slammed me from behind and dragged me away from the door. He pulled me to my feet and pulled me down towards the basement and the crematorium. I couldn't see the man, but judging by the accent I heard him whisper in I figured that he had to be Latino. As we drew nearer to the ovens, I could hear my aunt and uncle in the room and they were arguing with another man who I could tell was also Latino.

"We already told you. We don't work for one person, we serve the entire county," said my uncle.

I was pulled into the room and my aunt turned to look at me with gasp.

The other Latino man tsked and said, "I'm not asking to stop working for them. Just make ME top priority. Think of all the money I'm offering you."

"It's too much. The feds would crack down on us if we received that much," my aunt added.

The man shook his head and said, "I'm sorry to hear that. Especially with your boy right here. It looks like my boy Carlos has been having fun with him."

I could hear the man behind me laugh and say, "The fun hasn't even started yet."

He pushed my face to the ground and I could hear two more people walking in. I heard the four of them of them exchanging words in Spanish and then they started moving about the room. I couldn't see them and could only look at the ground. It wasn't until the two other guys left that I heard the first man speaking again.

"Last chance. Join my cartel or suffer the consequences," said the first man once again.

I heard my uncle say "No" and the man sighed.

"I'm really sorry to hear that. Now you must pay the price. Carlos, raise the boy's head. Let this serve as a warning for him. No one goes against the Cartel," the man said.

Carlos raised my head and made me look at the man and my family. My aunt and uncle let their hands entwine and I watched as the man pulled the trigger and I saw as bullets went into each of their foreheads.

That is where the world stopped for me so suddenly. As their bodies hit the ground, I heard their killer laughing in delight.

"I warned them and they ignored the warnings. Now what to do with the boy?" he said out loud.

I couldn't help but cry out and say, "I'll work for you. I'll do whatever you need me to do. Just please stop."

The man chuckled and said, "I bet you could. You can prove to us that you can. You just need to clean up the mess in here."

He pointed at the bodies and said, "Burn them and then we'll see what we can do."

Carlos let go of me and allowed me to stand. He shoved me towards the bodies and I looked back at him. He was certainly the ugly type and flashed his gold teeth at me. Given no choice, I picked up each body one at a time and placed them on the rack for the oven. I then shoved the rack into the incinerator and started the oven. I heard it activate let the fires consume what family I had had left.

Carlos laughed and said, "Good job kid. And just so we know you won't backstab us."

I turned and he had out a lighter and aerosol can. He let out a small blast of flames around my left eye. I felt the flames lick at the iris and I pulled back as the searing pain set in. I clamped it shut as I held it.

"Remember kid. Cross us and we'll do you worse than what we did those two," said the first man again and the two of them walked out.

As I heard them exiting the building, I dashed for the front door and I looked out the door's window. I could see the man and Carlos in the blue cruiser and I even got a better look at what I was guessing were the two other men that had entered into the room. Now I had all their faces.

Now all I had to do was get rid of them, before they could do the same to me.

Good thing I know a thing or two about disposal.


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning: This chapter will contain some gore and graphic descriptions.**

 **This chapter will be told in a normal point of view**

 _Two months later_

At a bar in Paleto Bay, two Latino men walked out, both clearly in a drunken stupor. They patted each other's shoulders and laughed as they began to part for their own vehicles.

"Oh man I am so fucking wasted. I should not be driving," said the first one.

The second man, Carlos, laughed and said, "Oh it's Paleto Bay, the cops are on our payroll. Who cares if we get pulled over... or cause an accident?"

"And if someone dies?" asked the first man.

Carlos laughed again and said, "Just send it that twerp who we burned. He knows how we roll."

The men laughed and clapped each others shoulders before stomping away from each other. Carlos climbed into his jeep and went to start the engine. Just as he did though, lights flashed in from the window on the passenger side. He turned to look and the last thing he saw was a pair of bright lights getting closer to him. Then there was a sudden hard jolt and Carlos was out like a light.

 _Sometime later_

Some time passed and Carlos began to stir. He tried to let out a groan but found that no noise eminated from his mouth. It was here that a sharp pain shot through his mouth. He tried to scream, but found that his mouth would not open. He felt along the inside of his mouth and felt that his mouth was being held shut with wire. He tried to squirm, but found he was being held down by something. He turned his head to the right and was greeted by the sight of a charred skeleton. He continued trying to scream until a light was shined in his face.

"Well you're awake now. You missed all the fun I had with your friend here," came a young man's voice.

The light turned away a bit and Carlos recognized him immediatly as the same kid who's eye he had burned. And now this same kid hovered over him... wearing an apron... covered in blood... and holding a scalpel that glistened with blood.

"You know you guys really should watch how much you drink. I didn't even need to run him off the road, he fell asleep before he even started the engine. His liver was practically falling apart once I removed it," Robin stated and grabbed Carlos by the side of the head and forced his head to turn.

There was a rack full of coolers and each was labeled with a different organ with the exception of a liver and heart. Instead they each sat in separate jars of formaldehyde. Carlos squirmed some more and could feel the urge to scream, but couldn't.

"He screamed like no tomorrow until he eventually succumbed to the lack of blood. Don't worry though, his organs will make me a mint. You however, I could do without them. I have something better in mind. But first I have something special," Robin stated and walked over to rack full of chemicals.

Carlos began trying to struggle against the straps that held him down and began to freak out once he saw the kid grabbing a bottle of clorox. As he struggled, a pain shot through each arm and he couldn't find the strength to continue.

"Oh yeah, I slit your arms and drained some blood out of you and stitched you up. Blood banks pay top notch for rare blood and I couldn't have you bleeding to death," Robin said.

Carlos' blood was AB- as it said on his drivers license and realized what this meant. Since he had less blood in him, there was no escaping. Robin returned and unscrewed the top of the bottle. Carlos started struggling again, but Robin tilted the bottle and poured some of the chemical into Carlos' eyes.

The compound burned at Carlos' retinas and his vision began to cloud as he felt his eyes draining a little. The pain was unbearable, but every attempt to scream did him no good as he could not open his mouth. Several minutes passed and the pain did not subside, but he felt the gurney he was on began to move. A moment later, he was flipped onto another metal table and felt heat eminating from behind him. He knew what was coming and began shaking his head and trying one last vain attempt at pleading. However the rack was shoved right into the oven. The fire and heat licked at his body. He tried shrieking one last time as the oven door slammed shut.

 _Shortly after_

Robin kneeled over his toilet and let the vomit escape from his mouth. As he flushed he began to ponder what he had done. Despite how he had boasted in front of Carlos and the personal satisfaction he received from doing his deed, he got zero enjoyment out of it. The first man's screams had been pain to his ears and the more he cut, the worse it felt. And he had practically gagged as he had watched the Clorox go to work on Carlos' eyes.

He didn't understand. Killing his aunt and uncle had seemed so easy for Carlos and his goons. But for him he couldn't stand committing the actual deed. He didn't want to do it again, but knew that he couldn't let their actions or deeds go unpunished.

He got up from the toilet and proceeded back downstairs. After all, he'd have to turn off the oven soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Starting this chapter, we're back in the present as Robin continues looking for revenge. But for now he has some "fun" with Trevor.**

 _Sandy Shores_

Trevor's truck crossed the railroad tracks and pulled into his trailer home. He got out and started hooting.

"Well how was that bird boy? Told you I'd get us out of there," Trevor shouted through a rush of adrenaline.

Robin however sat very still in the truck, breathing in and out. Trevor may have gotten a kick out of these intense situations, but Robin wasn't used to it. He was used to cleaning up a bloody scene and disposing of the victims. Several times he's been called out to the bar that Trevor was a regular customers to and it was always either in the middle of the night or during dinner. Why did he have to get involved with this guy?

"Hey come on kid. We made it out and we're unscathed," Trevor said.

Robin looked at him and said, "Speak for yourself. It was supposed to be an easy job. All we had to do was collect drugs and cash from the mill. But then YOU had to start killing people."

Trevor shrugged and said, "He saw us and started being a dick about it. I had to teach him some manners."

"By slamming his face into a running saw?" Robin asked angrily.

Trevor shrugged again and said, "Some have to learn the hard way. Now come inside, I've got something for ya."

Robin groaned and got out of the truck. He felt his way along the truck and spots the door to Trevor's trailer. Whatever he had in there had to be good.

"I swear Trevor, if you're doing this to give me crap I will-," Robin started but then he saw the legs on the floor inside.

Trevor laughed and said, "Surprise."

"Oh for the love of God Trevor. You left that in there while we were on the job?" Robin said angrily.

"We were on a schedule. Now get your ass in here," Trevor replied and pulled Robin inside.

The body was of a young punk looking guy. Leather jacket, jeans, hard rocker shirt, and fingerless gloves. Must have been one of the bikers that's been around the area lately. A broken bottle had been inserted where his right eye was supposed to be. Knowing Trevor, this guy did not die an easy death.

Trevor looked at Robin and said, "Well think you can clean this up?"

Robin sat down on Trevor's table and gritted his teeth, doing his best to keep himself from going crazy on Trevor. He looked behind himself and saw Trevor's case of Pisswaser sitting on the table and grabbed one of the bottles.

"I'm taking one of your beers. Just let me think," he said and opened the bottle.

He took a drink and tried to think. No doubt someone heard the commotion out at the mill so police were going to be all over the area, making it too risky to dump the body somewhere. So if they couldn't get rid of it, they could store it for the time being and wait for the heat to die down.

"You still got that icebox out back?" Robin asked.

"I was just about to get rid of it. What about it?" Trevor asked back.

Robin took another drink of beer and said, "If we can just store it there for the time being, at least until the police presence dies down. That'll keep the body fresh long enough for us to dump it. Won't have to worry about the stench of decay bringing unwanted attention here. Then all I'll need to do tonight is clean up and bleach the blood. Seriously Trevor, do you have any idea how hard it'll be to clean up coagulated blood?"

Trevor merely shrugged, cracked open a bottle of beer as well and said, "Don't know don't care. As long as we get this straightened up."

Robin groaned and said, "Fine, help me get the body into the freezer. Then I'll grab some bleach and ice from the gas station. Seriously time these better would ya. I've got other clients besides you."

Trevor raised his beer bottle to his lips, downed it one gulp and said, "Dully noted."

He then proceeded to smash the bottle onto the floor as Robin started dragging the body to the door.


End file.
